


something unexpected

by kinneyb



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-19 16:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19136506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: And, just like that, Crowley suddenly has a heartbeat and Aziraphale does not.





	something unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> idc if this doesnt make sense mwah
> 
> ★ please follow me on twitter @ queermight & check out my pinned tweet! ★

When Crowley woke up he immediately knew something was wrong. He felt . . . _off_. Shifting, he rolled over and saw Aziraphale still sleeping. They didn't need sleep, of course, but it was now one of their favorite things to do together. In a way, it was one of the most intimate things they could do - putting their trust in each other to not do anything to hurt the other person while they were at their most vulnerable.

Stretching, he leaned over and brushed his lips over Aziraphale's jaw. "Hey, Azira."

The angel blinked once, twice, then opened his eyes properly and smiled tiredly. "Hi," he greeted, then - "what's wrong?"

Crowley reached up and tucked a white curl behind Aziraphale's ear. "You can feel it, too?" he asked, a bit nervous.

"Of course," Aziraphale sat up. "There's something - " he gestured wildly " - wrong in the air."

Crowley slowly sat up, too, shrugging. "I'm sure it's nothing - "

"Crowley," Aziraphale was staring at him disbelievingly. Crowley touched his own face -- "what?" -- but Aziraphale ignored his question and simply ducked down, pressing his ear to Crowley's chest, and, "oh - oh, oh, _oh_ ," he said, pulling back and putting a hand over his mouth. "Crowley."

"That - " Crowley laughed awkwardly " - is not comforting."

Aziraphale bit his bottom lip, eyes flickering from Crowley's face back down to his chest then up again. "Crowley, dear, um. I don't know how to tell you this," he admitted sheepishly.

"Just out with it," Crowley said, but there was no heat behind it. "I'm a demon. I can take it."

Aziraphale smiled tightly. "No, love, uh, that's the thing - " reaching out, he touched his face gently " - you have a heartbeat."

Crowley isn't sure what he'd been expecting, but definitely not _that_. Scrambling, he pressed a hand to his own chest and waited, and oh. "Oh fuck," he whispered. "I - I have a heartbeat." He looked up, then, eyes wide. "Why the fuck do I have a heartbeat?"

"I'm not sure," Aziraphale said, soft. "But I'm sure it's, uh... going to be okay."

Crowley shook his head, once, firmly. "I've - I've never heard of anything like this!" he exclaimed. "A - a demon or - or angel can't just... grow a heartbeat over night!"

"Yes, yes," Aziraphale stroked his face gently. "Okay, you're right, but we can - we can figure this out."

Crowley took a deep, shuddering breath and - oh, fuck. "Aziraphale, I - I'm breathing, too," he pressed a hand to his throat. "Like real breathing."

"Oh." Aziraphale smiled tightly, nodding curtly. "Okay. Um. Wow."

/

Crowley stood over the sink, glancing between the knife and Aziraphale's face. "Stop staring at me like that," he said with a sniff.

"I just - " Aziraphale nearly whined, shuffling closer. "Do we really need to do this?"

Crowley gave him The Look. "We need to know how far this - this human thing goes," he said, glancing down at the knife again with a shudder. "Anyway, I'm just going to do a little nick. I'll be fine."

"I can heal you," Aziraphale said quickly.

Crowley smiled fondly. "We already discussed this," he said, soft. "No using our powers until - well, this is over. We don't want Heaven and Hell to deal with on top of all this, do we?"

"I... no," Aziraphale agreed quietly, shuffling even closer so he's pressed up against Crowley's side. "Okay," he breathed sharply. "Do it."

Without missing a beat, Crowley sliced the tip of his finger with the knife and hissed, dropping the knife into the sink with a loud clang. Aziraphale grabbed his wrist gently and examined the cut. After a few long seconds, he released his wrist and turned to grab a band aid. "You're not healing," he said, the frown evident in his voice.

Crowley watched as Aziraphale turned back around and wrapped his finger up carefully. "I'm, like, totally screwed, aren't I?"

"No!" Aziraphale snapped, then, softened. "You're going to be fine, Crowley. You're just..."

"Human?" Crowley supplied with a disbelieving laugh. "Fucking Hell."

/

"So I can, like, die now?" Crowley asked, squinting up at the sky. The sun felt warm on his face, almost too warm.

Aziraphale stiffened from where he'd been pulling out their lunch for the day. They hadn't tested this theory yet, but all things considered, they assumed Crowley probably needed food now, too. No longer a want, but a necessity. Shaking his head firmly, he handed Crowley a piece of bread. "I don't know," he said, quiet, "and we are _not_ finding out."

Crowley smiled fondly and took a bite of the doughy bread with a sigh. "Darling, it's not like I'm planning to jump in front of a car," he drawled. "It's just - interesting, is all."

"Interesting?" Aziraphale repeated, eyes wide. "Hardly. It's - it's terrifying," he looked away. "I thought... I don't know."

Crowley, human or not, could _sense_ the emotional change in the air. Frowning, he dropped his piece of bread on their blanket - the same one they always used for picnics - and wrapped an arm around Aziraphale. "What is it?"

"I just thought," Aziraphale shrugged weakly, "we'd always be together because... well, obvious reasons, but now - now you could leave me." He laughed wetly. "And I never prepared myself for that."

Crowley rubbed his arm gently. "I almost feel - " he swallowed thickly " - grateful."

Aziraphale looked at him. "How can you say that?" he asked, frowning.

"I wish I could spend eternity with you," he said, honest, "but I'm glad that - that if this had to happen, it's me and not you." Crowley smiled ruefully. "Because I'm a selfish son of a bitch and I can't imagine living without you."

Aziraphale sniffled. "We don't even know what this is or - or if you die whether you'll be going to - "

"I don't care," Crowley interrupted, squaring his shoulders. "Azira, can we not talk about this? I just want to enjoy lunch - " he smiled warmly " - with my favorite angel in the world. Can we do that?"

Aziraphale looked down and slowly intertwined their hands, squeezing. "Yes," he answered softly.

/

"If we hadn't cut off all connection with Heaven and Hell maybe we could - " Aziraphale stared up at the ceiling through the darkness - "I don't know... ask them about your condition?"

Crowley shifted closer, resting his head on Aziraphale's chest. "Please, I'm human. Not diseased."

"I never knew you thought there was a difference," Aziraphale teased lightly, petting his hair.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "I doubt they would've helped us, anyway," he muttered, already tired from the day. That was probably one of his least favorite things about being human: he was always so, so tired. How did humans survive like this? But . . . on the opposite end of things, Aziraphale's fingers had never felt quite so good in his hair.

"Sadly," Aziraphale leaned down to kiss the top of his head, "I think you're right."

/

When the news came, Crowley was alone. He held the piece of paper until Aziraphale returned with food and smiled ruefully. "Turns out, this - " he gestured at himself " - has everything to do with Hell, actually."

Aziraphale placed the bag of food on the table and walked over, joining Crowley on the couch. "What are you talking about?"

He showed the piece of paper with a message from Beelzebub. To be fair, Aziraphale couldn't really read Beelzebub's handwriting, but he got the message anyway. "It's my punishment for, well, everything," he laughed sharply, leaning back. "Fuck, I knew they'd eventually do something, but I didn't think they'd do this." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Fuck."

Aziraphale wrapped an arm around Crowley. "What - what should we do?" he asked softly.

"I don't think we can do anything," Crowley muttered, smiling sadly. "And I mean, they could've done a lot worse."

Aziraphale frowned deeply. "I can't lose you, dear," he said, kissing his temple gently. "We have to do something."

"Listen..." Crowley turned fully on the couch, taking Aziraphale's hands and squeezing. "We both knew what we were doing from the start. It was a risk, and I don't care the consequences," he smiled, sincere, "I'd do it all over again if it meant we got this time together." He glanced over at the food and laughed, breathless. "I've lived so long, but this - this is the happiest I've ever been." He licked his lips, shrugging. "And honestly? Humans are... lucky in that way. The way they feel - _experience_ things - is unlike anything I've ever known."

Aziraphale smiled sadly and leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips. "You know I won't give up this easily," he whispered, pressing their foreheads together briefly. "But," he pulled away, smiling widely. "I will let tonight be, and we can enjoy dinner, yes? I got all your favorites."

/

Then, "Crowley, dear, come here."

Crowley had been gone for most of the day; he was, ironically, collecting a few books for Aziraphale - a gift for their upcoming anniversary because suddenly the concept of anniversaries meant a lot to him. Embarrassingly so, perhaps. Hiding the bag under one of his plants, he strolled into their bedroom and smiled widely.

"Yes, love?" he asked, half teasing. He plopped on the bed and gave him a kiss. But something was . . . wrong. He couldn't place it in the moment, but Aziraphale's lips felt different somehow. Shaking his head, he rested a hand on Aziraphale's leg. "What are you reading?"

Aziraphale glanced down at the book, then, closed it. "That's not - uh," clearing his throat, he tossed the book to the side and oh, okay, this was obviously important because Aziraphale never treated his books so roughly. Crowley squared his shoulders, waiting. "I might've... done something," he continued weakly.

Crowley narrowed his eyes, tilting his head curiously. "Okay?"

"I - I don't regret it," he said quickly, jutting his chin in the air, "but... you might be mad at me."

Crowley smiled a bit, scooting closer. "Maybe," he admitted, "but you know I never stay angry for long."

Aziraphale nodded, once, jerkily and patted his thighs. "Well, you see... you know how we both haven't had any contact with Heaven or Hell since - " he gestured aimlessly " - your letter."

"Yes?" Crowley prompted, raising an eyebrow.

Aziraphale grinned sheepishly. "While you were gone, um. I might have - " he cleared his throat " - changed that?"

"Azira," Crowley said slowly. "What did you do?"

"To be fair," Aziraphale continued quickly, throwing a hand in the air, "I did not think I would get a reply, but... I did?" he squeaked. "Well, you know how it goes, it wasn't God himself, but close enough and I - I begged him for a favor and..." He shrugged. "After lots and lots of begging, he said he'd consider mentioning it to the big guy, and, well... he apparently did."

Crowley shifted, folding his arms over his chest. "What did you do?"

"Oh." Aziraphale reached up, cupping the back of Crowley's head lovingly. "How about I - uh - show you?"

Crowley nodded curtly. Aziraphale closed his eyes, took a shaky breath, and pulled him forward, pressing his head against his chest, and oh -- _fuck_. "Aziraphale!" he exclaimed, pulling back and staring at him with wide eyes. "Why the fuck did you - why would they - I don't understand. You're - " he grabbed him by the face " - fucking insane!"

"You do not," Aziraphale barked, sudden and sharp, "get to talk to me like that." He swallowed thickly, shaking his head once furiously. "I was the one who was going to suffer as a result of your f - fucking _humanness_!"

Crowley blinked slowly because oh, shit. "You just cursed," he laughed disbelievingly.

Aziraphale stiffened, looking away. "Yes," he said, quiet. "Well, I'm sorry, Crowley, truly, but I can't..."

"Live without me?" he finished knowingly. Reaching out, he touched his knee and squeezed softly. "You could," he continued, smiling sadly, "but you don't _want_ to and I - I understand. I'm not... I'm not mad, Aziraphale. I'm just - I always want to believe you're safe. Your safety is - it's really important to me, okay?"

Aziraphale smiled back, placing a hand on top of Crowley's. "I guess we'll both just have to be a little more careful from now on, won't we?"

"I - " Crowley laughed sharply, nodding. "Yeah," he agreed, smiling a bit wider. "Guess so."


End file.
